


Apricots Soaked In Honey

by bubbleguchi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Celebrity Tsukishima, Fluff, M/M, Notting Hill AU, POV Multiple, Small Town Yamaguchi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleguchi/pseuds/bubbleguchi
Summary: Tsukishima Kei is the most famous music producer in Japan. Yamaguchi Tadashi is the manager of a small-town electronics store. Their meeting is unlikely and they have little in common, but their attraction is undeniable. Can fame coincide with a quiet life in a quiet town?-x-A 'Notting Hill' AU(Title and chapters are quotes from the film)
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 40
Kudos: 150





	1. One of Those Key Moments in Life

**Author's Note:**

> I made a [Youtube playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7ZFKfkmj_rzmi9kTFR8Qls0N6lXgYWny) for this fic if anyone's interested!
> 
> Enjoy <3

Tadashi is a friendly guy. Anyone who knows him will say such, and often at that, that he is approachable, cheerful. As a child, he was shy and reserved and quiet, but to grow older is to grow bolder (according to Shimada, anyway), and while he may not be an all-out extrovert, he has certainly gained some confidence with age. Tadashi believes it is these qualities that make him so good at his job; charm is currency in retail, and his customers regularly inform him that he has that in abundance.

Of course, his customers are mostly little old ladies who only shop at his store because it’s closer to the residential areas than the mall is, and even then, they don’t buy much. Famously, old ladies are not the target audience for an electronics store. Still, he enjoys his job; it’s quiet but not boring, close to his home, and he gets on well with his one other colleague. Even if said colleague is always late, much too boisterous, and overshares far too often.

Nishinoya is currently telling Tadashi the long story of what he did at the weekend, but Tadashi is barely listening. He rarely does when Noya gets going, just hums and nods at random intervals. Sure, he’s friendly, but he’s not a saint. Instead he’s watching the door, waiting for something, _anything,_ to happen. Remember how he said his job wasn’t boring? Maybe that was wishful thinking.

“And then Kiyoko’s friend, I don’t remember her name now, but she said she didn’t like short guys! Ryu said he was sorry and that they’d try set me up with someone better next time but _gyaaah!_ She was really pretty, too!” Noya wails, looking dejected, and Tadashi takes that as his cue to speak.

“Aw, bud,” he starts, patting Noya’s back. “Pay her no mind!”

Noya huffs before literally, physically shaking himself, smile returning. “Yeah, she wasn’t as cool as Kiyoko! Ryu is so lucky,” he sighs, resting his chin on his palm.

Tadashi hums his assent. Noya taps his fingers on the counter, clearly just as bored and restless as Tadashi. A quick glance at his watch tells Tadashi there’s still an hour until closing time.

“Hey,” he says to get Noya’s attention, “want a soda?”

Noya practically jumps from his seat by the counter. “Yeah! Let me go though? I’m _sooo_ bored! No offense.”

“None taken,” Tadashi laughs, waving him out. The door swings shut and Tadashi is left in the silence of the shop.

Today has been a slow day in the shop, with only a few old dears dropping in around lunch, and while he’s good friends with Noya, it can be pretty tiring to be around him all day. Wanting to make the most of his five minutes of peace, Tadashi dips behind the counter, fiddling with the buttons down there until soft music starts to play from the wall-mounted speakers. He’s straightening back up when the bell above the door rings, signalling what Tadashi thinks is Noya’s premature return. He stands corrected when he sets eyes on the decidedly not-Noya-shaped figure.

The customer is tall, strikingly so, and slender. His hair is a pure blond, and Tadashi wonders whether that’s the customer’s natural colour or not. From the counter he watches as the customer makes his way to the music section, barely acknowledging Tadashi’s presence. Happy for the distraction from his boredom, Tadashi approaches him, a bright smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he beams, and the customers' eyes flicker briefly to meet his before returning to the speakers. “I’m Yamaguchi, is there anything I can help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Tadashi almost thinks the customer is going to ignore him, until he finally speaks, eyes still studying the speaker in front of him.

“No, thank you,” he replies simply, and moves on to look at the next speaker in the row.

Tadashi watches him for a second before speaking again, voice still cheerful. “Well if you’re looking for a speaker I could help! I know quite a lot about the different types and brands.”

“I’m fine,” is the customer’s response, still not looking at Tadashi.

Tadashi has been around his fair share of introverts, and he’s seen enough to know that they often won’t accept help even if they need it. He tells himself that this is what pushes him to persist in his attempted communication with the customer, and not the fact that Tadashi finds him rather attractive in an aloof sort of way and would perhaps like to get a better look at the sharp eyes that sit behind those black spectacles.

“I wouldn’t go for that one if you like to play your music loud. The bass kinda sucks and makes it sound sort of tinny,” he advises to the customer’s back. The customer looks over his shoulder to lock eyes with Tadashi, who is momentarily stunned by how golden they are. Tadashi notes how they seem to sparkle under the store’s fluorescent lights.

“Is that so, _Yamaguchi?"_ the customer says, though it sounds less like a question and more like a challenge. Tadashi sees it in his honey gold eyes, they say _come on then, Mr. Expert. Tell me something useful._ Tadashi is only too happy to oblige.

“It is indeed,” he says, grinning as he moves to face the customer. He points to the next speaker in the line. “This one has much better sound quality for near the same price. There are better, but this one’s hard to beat in terms of value.”

Tadashi could swear he sees a quirk at the corner of the customer’s mouth, a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of smirk. Then it’s gone, and the customer says coolly, “I see. I suppose I’ll take one of each then.”

“Huh?” is all Tadashi can manage.

“In fact, I’ll take one of every model you have here,” he continues as if he hasn’t noticed Tadashi’s confusion. “Do you deliver? I can provide adequate compensation.” He watches Tadashi quizzically, his face blank but for the slightest glint of amusement in his pretty, honey golden eyes.

Tadashi clears his throat. “We don’t, usually. How far do you need them taking?”

“Not far at all,” he replies vaguely, handing Tadashi a business card, “Yamaguchi.” He flashes Tadashi the smallest hint of a smile and then suddenly he’s leaving, crossing paths with a returning Noya, and Tadashi is confused because surely he has to be missing something.

The bell above the door rings as the customer leaves, and Noya stands in the middle of the store, a can of soda in each hand, head rapidly turning as he looks from Tadashi to the door and back again. Tadashi sends him a questioning look, and Noya’s response is louder than usual.

“Was that Tsukishima Kei?” he asks, eyes wide with disbelief.

-x-

Tadashi looks down at the business card in his hands for the umpteenth time. _Firefly Records_ it reads, along with a phone number and an address.

“But what does he want me to _do_ with this?” he asks Noya once again. Noya doesn’t seem to mind the repetition, apparently still starstruck.

“I don’t know dude, I guess make the delivery! Oh man, this is so cool! What was he like?” He’s leaned in close over the counter, and Tadashi can almost see the excitement rising from him like steam.

“He didn’t really say much,” is all Tadashi can think to reply, and it’s the truth. He doesn’t have to tell Noya that the customer, _Tsukishima Freaking Kei,_ the most successful music producer in Japan, was blunt but weirdly charming, or that his eyes were like molten gold and made Tadashi’s stomach flip. Noya doesn’t need to know those things at all.

“I can’t believe I missed it! Shouyou is gonna _flip,"_ Noya continues, predictably unaffected by Tadashi’s internal struggle.

He continues to ramble as they prepare the store for closing but Tadashi pays very little attention, his body running on autopilot while his mind zeroes in on the small rectangle of card now resting safely in the chest pocket of his blue work shirt.

He’s still at a loss for what he’s going to do about this delivery situation. Should he call the number on the card? Or should he just turn up at the studio with a car full of speakers? When he’d looked up the address on his phone he’d found that the address was apparently a 13 minute drive from the store. It was doable, very doable, but was it sensible? After all, Tsukishima hadn’t paid for anything. Would he even be there to receive the speakers if Tadashi delivered them?

The questions continue to fill his brain as he locks up the shop, as he waves goodbye to Noya, as he makes the short journey home. They don’t subside when he unlocks his door and is greeted by the smell of burning – Hinata is cooking, _oh devastation_ – nor do they abate when he’s stripped off his work uniform and placed the business card safely on his bedroom desk.

For all his worrying, Tadashi could only come up with one solution: to just do what the man had asked and deliver the damn speakers.

  
  



	2. Whoopsidasies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter beta'd by the fantastic Dev, to whom I am eternally grateful <3
> 
> Hope you like it!

Morning comes simultaneously all too soon and not soon enough for Tadashi. His nerves are on edge as he considers his plan for the day and all the ways in which it can go wrong. He keeps telling himself that there’s no need to be so anxious but, of course, anxiety will persist. Mixed with his nerves, however, is the shy flutter of excitement in his chest at the thought that he may, possibly, _hopefully_ see Tsukishima again today.

But he is going to ignore that flutter because he is a professional.

Hinata is already awake when Tadashi enters the kitchen, as he is most mornings. He offers Tadashi a broad smile from his seat at the dining table.

“Morning, Yama!” he beams, “Want some breakfast?”

Tadashi eyes Hinata’s bowl warily, unable to identify its contents. His stomach lurches, and he knows that he’s too nervous to manage any food this morning. He wonders for a second if Noya has told Hinata about yesterday, but Tadashi knows that if he had, Hinata would not still be in his seat.

“No time,” Tadashi says quickly. “Lots to do today, see you later!” And in seconds he’s grabbing his coat and his keys and leaving a bemused Hinata to his breakfast.

Tadashi feels rather silly getting in his car to drive to work. He can _see_ the store from his front doorstep, and it takes him under two minutes to walk there, but he needs the car close to the shop so that he can load it up with an outrageous amount of speakers. The speakers for Tsukishima. Tsukishima’s speakers. The flutter is back. Tadashi pointedly ignores it.

Parking right outside the store is easy, the street empty of cars thanks to the early hour. Once inside, Tadashi finds himself restless. He knows Noya will be late, as always. Unfortunately, Tadashi will need Noya’s help to load the car – he’s already worried that he won’t be able to fit everything in – so he must wait. But it’s hard, because Tadashi can feel the weight of the business card that is once again in his shirt pocket, and his fingers are tingling with nervous energy, and the flutter is still tickling his rib cage in a way that is getting too insistent to ignore.

 _Stop it,_ he tells it, _you’re being ridiculous._ Because Tsukishima is _famous,_ and in a _huge way,_ and he probably has assistants to receive his deliveries because he must be far too busy to do so himself, and even if he isn’t, why would he bother to meet Tadashi himself when someone else could do it for him? Tsukishima probably doesn’t even remember Tadashi and probably doesn’t _care,_ he just wants his speakers, so Tadashi will push his odd little crush deep, _deep_ down and just do his job. _So just stop it,_ he tells the flutter with finality.

Noya strolls in around 20 minutes after the start of his shift, and Tadashi has long since given up on scolding him, seeing as how it clearly doesn’t work. Boxes of speakers are stacked on the counter in front of Tadashi, and more rest in short piles on the floor. Noya surveys the surroundings, confused for a second before he remembers. His eyes brighten as they meet Tadashi’s.

“You’re doing the delivery?” he asks, excitement evident in his voice. Tadashi just nods once, a tight smile on his face. Noya leans towards Tadashi, who winces at how close he is to disturbing the stacks on the counter. “Can I come with? _Pleeeease?"_ Noya begs.

Tadashi huffs a short laugh. “If you come with me then there’ll be no one here to watch the store,” he reasons. Noya pouts, but Tadashi continues, “You can help me load the car though?” His voice raises in a plea at the end, his face sheepish, hoping that Noya won’t protest.

He doesn’t, rolling his eyes and stomping heavily into the back room to retrieve the moving trolley, loudly grumbling something about “not fair,” and “lucky Yamaguchi.”

It doesn’t take too long for both of them to load Tadashi’s car, and by the time it is quite literally full, Noya has forgotten his sulk and is grinning at Tadashi.

“You better tell me everything when you get back,” he says, clapping Tadashi on the back with a heavy hand. “And don’t do anything stupid!”

Tadashi just laughs in response before sliding into the driver’s seat. _I can’t make any promises there,_ he thinks as he pulls away from the curb.

-x-

The drive to the _Firefly Records_ building is closer to 20 minutes than the promised 13 thanks to traffic, but Tadashi makes it there unscathed. He is ushered into an underground car park by some very serious security staff and told to take the elevator to the third floor reception. As he leaves the car, he looks into the back at the pile of boxes expertly tetris-ed on the seats. He thinks about the similar situation in the trunk and resolves to leave them in the car and ask for help at the reception. Surely they’ll have the appropriate equipment to transport the relatively fragile cargo better than Tadashi could with his arms, and in fewer trips.

When Tadashi approaches the reception desk he’s met with bright, attentive eyes and a welcoming smile from the woman seated on the other side.

“Can I help you?” she chirps, and Tadashi feels his anxiety ebb just a little.

“Um, I have a delivery for, um,” he hesitates, gulping, “Tsukishima-san. His speakers...” he trails off. He silently thanks whatever deities he can think of when the woman nods knowingly.

“Ah yes, the speakers. Follow me.”

She rises and beckons Tadashi along. He wonders where he’s being led and why she didn’t ask where the speakers were, seeing as he clearly didn’t have them on him, but his wondering is cut short when they come to a stop at a plain black door. The receptionist knocks softly before swinging the door fully open, bringing them face to face with a room full of people.

It’s not a normal room, but a professional recording studio. The group of people sit at a desk of buttons and knobs and switches in front of a large window that looks into the recording booth. The four figures at the big desk turn to regard Tadashi and the receptionist.

“Tsukishima-san, this man is here for the speakers,” she says, and Tadashi’s eyes find familiar golden eyes peering up at him over their owner’s shoulder.

It is not the owner of these eyes who speaks, though. Beside him is a man whose eyes are sly and smug, a comb of spiky black hair atop his head.

“Speakers?” Spiky Hair asks, looking right at Tadashi, who just nods in response. “Well that was fast. Thanks, Michimiya,” he says, and the receptionist smiles and closes the door, leaving Tadashi alone in the room with the group.

His eyes meet with Tsukishima’s and in them he sees a spark of something he can’t read, and he doesn’t even have the chance to try before the spiky-haired man speaks again.

“Okay, Speaker Guy,” he addresses Tadashi, “it’s the one in that corner over there,” he points. “We’re just not getting any sound.”

Tadashi looks to where he’d pointed in the corner, then back to Spiky Hair, then over to Tsukishima who is looking at Spiky Hair with wide eyes.

“No, Kuroo, I don’t think he’s–” Tsukishima starts, but Spiky Hair, Kuroo, cuts him off.

“Tsukki, we can’t get this done without that speaker,” he says to Tsukishima, who responds with an affronted look and a tut, then he turns to the other two people at the desk and says, “We’ll give it one last try, but if this guy can’t fix it we’re gonna have to reschedule.”

The two people, a man and a woman, turn to look at Tadashi expectantly. As does Kuroo. Tsukishima, however, looks at him apologetically, though the expression is subtle on Tsukishima’s usually stoic face.

Tadashi thinks of Noya. _Sorry dude,_ he silently laments, _looks like I’m about to do something stupid._ Then he squares his shoulders and fixes a cheery grin on his face.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, and when he looks at Tsukishima, Tadashi sees that he’s fighting a smirk.

When he turns toward the corner, the other three turn back towards the console, but Tadashi can feel Tsukishima’s eyes on him as he squats to inspect the broken speaker. It’s not one he’s ever seen before, clearly far more high-tech than what he’s used to. Experimentally he fiddles with the wires at the back, unplugging and replugging a few. It’s not like he can make it any _more_ broken, right?

“Um,” Tadashi clears his throat, “try it now?”

He hears the sound of switches being clicked and knobs being turned, then a tut.

“Still nothin’,” says Kuroo. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter, no point wasting time. Abe, Fukuda, I’ll call you when we’ve got this sorted and we’ll schedule another session.” He turns to Tadashi. “Keep trying, would you? The sooner it’s fixed, the better.” Then to Tsukishima, “I’m gonna see our guests out, you good to stay and help Speaker Guy?”

Tadashi takes a moment to absorb the information. He sees Tsukishima offer Kuroo a short nod, and then Kuroo is guiding the other two people from the room. Before he knows it, he is alone with Tsukishima. However, he has very little time to freak out about this before Tsukishima speaks.

“Yamaguchi, I am so sorry about that,” he says, but the apology is somewhat undercut by the laugh that is evident in his voice and is threatening to bubble up at the slightest provocation.

“You should be,” Tadashi laughs back. The flutter is back and with a vengeance at the fact that Tsukishima remembered his name. “I’m not even sure what just happened.”

“Well, you played the part well,” Tsukishima quips back. “Come sit, Speaker Guy.” He pats the seat next to him.

Tadashi moves towards him before he can even think about it. He feels like he’s in a dream, the kind where everything feels hyper-real, and you only realise just how weird it was once you wake up. He isn’t ready to wake up quite yet.

“I hope you know I won’t be fixing that speaker,” Tadashi says as he sits. Tsukishima exhales a short laugh, golden eyes crinkling at the corners. Tadashi feels a little bit breathless.

“And after you’d convinced me of your expertise yesterday.”

“I can’t believe you let me do that,” Tadashi groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “There I was, trying to advise Tsukishima Kei on music equipment.”

“Well Tsukishima Kei found your input to be very helpful,” Tsukishima assures him solemnly.

All Tadashi can offer in response is a skeptical smile, shaking his head when Tsukishima smiles back. This easy banter is very much _not_ helping his stupid crush.

“Speaking of,” Tsukishima continues, “I’m assuming you have a delivery for me?”

Tsukishima walks Tadashi to the car park, picking up some helpers on the way. Once the car is finally empty and the speakers whisked away by helpful hands, Tadashi once again finds himself alone with Tsukishima.

“I expect you’re going to eventually pay for those?” Tadashi half-jokes, feeling awkward even having to ask. This feeling grows when he sees the look on Tsukishima’s face.

“How embarrassing,” Tsukishima murmurs, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, momentarily obscuring the slight pink of his cheeks, “that I had you come here without even paying you.”

He looks sheepishly down at Tadashi, who is floored by the softness of Tsukishima’s voice and the flush of his cheeks.

“I apologise,” he continues. “If you come back up to reception I can do it now?”

“Um, well,” Tadashi stammers, finding himself blushing in response to Tsukishima’s blush. _Stupid flutters._ “I need to get back to the store now, but...” He hesitates. He can’t let this be the last time he sees Tsukishima. “Why don’t you come by later, before closing?” he suggests tentatively.

Tsukishima nods, his cheeks returned to their usual pale cream, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. Tadashi lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“Okay,” he grins. “See you later, then.”

“See you, Yamaguchi.”


	3. My Relatively Inexperienced Heart

When Kei returns to the studio he finds a confused Kuroo sitting alone at the console. He swivels his chair to face Kei as the door clicks shut. 

“Dude, what the fuck happened to Speaker Guy?” Kuroo huffs in annoyance. “The stupid thing still doesn’t work.”

Kei rubs his hand through his hair self-consciously, searching for the right way to break the news to Kuroo but dreading the reaction. He knows that Kuroo won’t be mad, but he will be _curious_ and he’ll _pry_ and Kei does not like it when Kuroo inserts himself into his personal life. Not that that ever stops him.

“Well the thing is,” he starts, keeping his tone steady, “Yamaguchi – Speaker Guy – wasn’t the technician.” He waits for a beat, trying to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, but Kuroo just looks confused, so he continues. “I went to his store yesterday and bought some equipment. He was here to deliver it.”

Kuroo narrows his eyes, and Kei quietly gulps. He knows that look. That’s the look that Kuroo gets when he knows he’s not getting the full story, and Kei does not want to tell him the full story. However, Kuroo is not one to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“I have questions. Number one,” he holds up a finger and begins his list, “what the fuck were you doing in a store? Number 2, what the fuck am I supposed to do about that speaker? And number 3, why the fuck do you know Speaker Guy’s name?”

And it’s in that moment that Kei realises he will not win. Kuroo is too sharp, and Kei knows that he’s already said too much. May as well spill the beans.

“Well, I was buying equipment, as I said,” he begins, answering the questions in order. “And Michimiya said that the actual tech will be here by 4 this afternoon.” Easy questions answered, Kei takes a deep breath, preparing himself. “And unlike some people, I have manners. I couldn’t well refer to him as ‘Speaker Guy’ the whole time,” he chides, moving to sit beside Kuroo before softly adding, “And, well. I think I like him.”

A devious smile splits Kuroo’s face in two. “Why Tsukki, you dog! Oh my God, did you buy all that stuff just so you could see him again?” Kei scowls at the nickname, then somehow scowls deeper when he feels heat rising to his cheeks. This only seems to spur Kuroo on. “Were you trying to impress him by looking all professional in your fancy studio?” he teases gleefully with a cackle. 

“I didn’t know he’d turn up when we were in the studio,” Kei mumbles weakly, embarrassed that Kuroo was able to see through him so easily. 

What was even more embarrassing was that he wanted Kuroo’s advice. Kei found himself somewhat out of practice in the art of romance; he’d put his personal life on hold to pursue his career and now found himself devastatingly clueless. Observant as always, Kuroo seems to sense his struggle and changes his approach. 

“Tsukki, dude, just go for it,” he advises, placing a hand on Kei’s shoulder. “You’re Tsukishima Kei, man. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Kei sighs, straightening himself up and forcing his face back into a neutral expression. “Forget about it. We’ve got work to do.”

Nonplussed by Kei’s sudden mood change, Kuroo hums knowingly, grinning. “Right you are, boss.”

-x-

Somehow, Tadashi deflects Noya’s questions without revealing too much; he could _not_ let Noya find out about the mix-up, or Tadashi would never hear the end of it. And, for incredibly selfish reasons, Tadashi didn’t want Noya to know that Tsukishima would be returning to the shop later. If Noya knew, then he would insist on staying, and Tadashi, as if Tsukishima were treasure, wants to hoard him and keep him all to himself.

“Hey, Noya,” Tadashi says an hour before closing. “I think you should finish early tonight.” Noya raises his eyebrows in question, so Tadashi continues. “Seeing as I left you alone here for so long this morning. What do you think?”

While he knows that Noya has no reason to be suspicious, Tadashi still finds himself nervous. Though, perhaps his nerves can be attributed to what will come to pass if Noya does leave; Tadashi will be alone with Tsukishima. His heart quickens at the thought and he silently scolds himself. _Oh, be serious,_ he thinks, _as if he would ever even_ look _at me._ Still, a boy can dream, can’t he?

“Dude, are you sure?” Noya responds, dragging Tadashi from his daydream. It’s endearing how, despite clearly wanting very badly to accept the offer, Noya double-checks.

Tadashi needs only to smile and nod and Noya is grabbing his bag and then heading out the door, calling his thanks back over his shoulder.

Sighing, Tadashi feels himself relax a fraction at having completed his first objective, despite the anxiousness he still feels regarding the next. He ducks behind the counter to set some music playing from the speakers, something soft and acoustic to help settle his nerves. In an attempt to keep himself occupied, Tadashi busies himself around the store, cleaning and organizing and preparing for close.

As he works, Tadashi finds his mind wandering. Tsukishima remembered his name. Tsukishima had smiled and laughed with Tadashi. Tsukishima had _blushed._ Heat blooms in Tadashi’s own cheeks and he fights the smile he feels growing on his lips. He feels how he imagines teenagers in cheesy movies feel; shy and giddy and full-on electrified.

He wonders if he’s ever felt like this. Of course, he’s had crushes before, but this intense? He’s not sure. He wishes he could call Yachi and get her opinion on the whole situation, but the clock on the wall is signifying that there are only 30 minutes to closing time and he can’t risk having such a conversation overheard by Tsukishima. No, Tadashi has definitely embarrassed himself enough for one day.

The minutes tick by, and Tadashi finds himself worrying that Tsukishima isn’t going to turn up. He’s shelving digital cameras and silently berating himself for ever getting so excited over an offensively beautiful celebrity who he barely knows, personally or otherwise, when the bell above the door rings.

Tadashi looks up to see the door close behind Tsukishima, and his heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Then Tsukishima smiles, a smile that is barely registered on his lips but is present in the profound softness in his eyes, and Tadashi’s heart constricts, tight in his chest, leaving him thunderstruck. That’s all the confirmation he needs; he has definitely, most certainly, never felt like this before. _Well shit._

“Just a minute,” Tadashi manages to choke out, receiving a short nod from Tsukishima, before retreating to the storage room with the box of cameras in his arms.

Only when he gets there does he breathe again. He shoves the box into a corner and shakes himself. _Just act normal,_ he begs himself. Tsukishima is just a person. He’s here to pay his bill, and then he will leave and Tadashi’s life will go on. And he’s fine with that. The lump in his throat is purely coincidental.

When he leaves the store room, he sees Tsukishima is back in the music section, looking at the speakers. He smiles unconsciously. Yesterday, he had been fine talking to Tsukishima; this morning, too, despite the awkwardness. Why should now be any different?

“Need any help?” Tadashi calls as he approaches, grinning. Tsukishima looks up and returns the smile.

“Not quite,” Tsukishima responds, hands in his pockets, “but if I did, I’d know who to ask.”

“Oh yeah? You’ll have to give me their number,” Tadashi jokes, and his heart skips when he’s rewarded with a quiet chuckle from Tsukishima.

“Hmm, funny,” Tsukishima says dryly, looking down and shaking his head. Tadashi grins harder.

“I’m glad you think so,” he beams. Then, remembering why Tsukishima is here in the first place, he beckons for Tsukishima to follow him towards the counter.

It doesn’t take long for Tsukishima to pay, and Tadashi spends the whole while trying to savour his remaining time in Tsukishima’s presence. He drinks in every smile, tries to commit Tsukishima’s sarcastic intonation to memory. If this is to be the end to this bizarre series of events, Tadashi wants to remember it completely. He would laugh at his own melodrama if he wasn’t feeling so sorry for himself. His pity party is interrupted by the sound of Tsukishima clearing his throat.

“So that makes us even, then?”

Tadashi presses pause on his lamenting and forces a smile onto his face, nodding in response. Tsukishima just looks back at him, hands still in his pockets, and the silence stretches uncomfortably. Tadashi is about to open his mouth but Tsukishima beats him to it.

“Yamaguchi,” he starts, avoiding Tadashi’s eyes by fixing his on the counter between them. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Time seems to freeze as Tadashi stares at him, breathless. He’s almost worried he’s misunderstood, so he replies with a simple, tentative, “No.”

Tsukishima finally looks Tadashi in the eyes, and Tadashi is sure he must be dreaming. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. Beautiful, famous men don’t just ask you out, not when you’re the manager at a two-employee electronics store in a small town and have a near-debilitating crush on said beautiful, famous man. All he can do is stare back into those gleaming golden eyes and wait for Tsukishima to speak again.

“Then would you, perhaps,” Tsukishima hesitates, and his cheeks are slightly pink. Tadashi’s heart is in his throat and he leans forward minutely over the counter, wordlessly begging Tsukishima to continue. When he does, it’s quick, like Tsukishima doesn’t trust himself not to chicken out.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” He asks, finally.

“Yes,” Tadashi breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Chapter 4 is already half done so lets see if I can get it up by the weekend :-)  
> Comments and concrit greatly appreciated <3


	4. "No Comment" Means Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter for some homophobia. It starts at “Shit, I think it is!” and ends at 'The other voice snickers and Tadashi’s blood boils.' There won't be any more homophobia in this fic after that!
> 
> Happy reading!

Kei feels high. He can’t believe that he asked Yamaguchi out, and even less that he said _yes._

They are currently walking to Yamaguchi’s house, which he claimed would take only two minutes. He’d said he wanted to change out of his work clothes, and, of course, Kei had said yes. Yamaguchi could have asked him to walk 20 miles and he would have said yes. Because he feels absolutely _delirious._ He takes care not to show it though, his face composed in its usual neutral expression.

Yamaguchi brings them to a halt in front of a blue front door and turns to Kei with a sheepish look on his face. Kei waits expectantly, taking the opportunity to admire Yamaguchi’s features; he finds the freckles to be his favourite so far.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Yamaguchi says, “I have a roommate. He may not be in but, in case he is, you should know that he’s, well.” Pause. Deep breath. “He’s a lot. Just a heads up.”

“Duly noted,” Kei replies, and he wonders how much someone must be for Yamaguchi to consider them ‘a lot’.

Huffing out a seemingly held breath, Yamaguchi nods resolutely and unlocks the door.

The hall is long before them, minimally furnished but slightly cluttered, a single floor with rooms lining each side of the corridor, and a kitchen at the end. Kei likes it; it looks like a home. He watches as Tadashi calls out a tentative greeting, and, in the absence of a reply, leads Kei to a small lounge while promising not to take too long.

Left alone in the room, Kei deflates fractionally, pulling his glasses from his face and rubbing his eyes. He still can’t believe that Yamaguchi said yes. That he is standing here, in Yamaguchi’s house, preparing to go to dinner with him. On a _date._ Wait. Kei panics for a second. Does Yamaguchi know that this is a date? _Oh shit,_ has Kei greatly misread this situation?

His internal freak-out is ended prematurely when Kei hears footsteps behind him. Returning his glasses to his face, he turns just in time to come face-to-face – well, chest-to-face – with someone small and orange.

 _"Bwaaaah!"_ the orange shrieks as it manages to stop itself just before slamming into Kei.

Kei steps back in shock as the orange rips the earphones from its ears with one hand, a half eaten banana held in the other. As it stares up at him with wide amber eyes, Kei can see a mess of chewed-up banana mushed in and around its open mouth. His distaste is present on his face before he has a chance to stop it, but it seems that the orange doesn’t notice.

“Do I know you?” it chews, barely swallowing before it’s taking another over-sized bite.

“God, I hope not,” Kei snarks automatically, then internally winces at his own words. Suddenly, and very much against his will, he’s thinking of the Spice Girls. _If I wanna be his lover, I’ve gotta get with his friends._ He feels like screaming. The orange remains oblivious.

“Wait a minute,” it says, realisation dawning on its face, voice rising in volume. “You’re Tsukishima Kei!”

Kei can’t tear his eyes from the food that it spits as it shouts and grins. _‘A lot’ was an understatement,_ he thinks, exasperated. He just nods in response, face forced back into its neutral mask to avoid any more unwanted expressions giving away his thoughts unintentionally. The orange vibrates.

 _“Oooooh,_ I’ve gotta get your autograph!” it declares, before rustling around the room, Kei assumes in search of a pen and some paper.

Apparently frozen in place, Kei just watches, and eventually it appears once again before him and thrusts its findings towards Kei with its banana-free hand.

“Make it out to Shouyou!” it orders, bright-eyed and grinning, and Kei can do nothing but oblige.

He allows his sarcasm to get the better of him as he writes the note, justifying it by the fact that the orange – Shouyou – had apparently not noticed his other jabs. Hesitating for just a microsecond, he then hands the note back.

 _“Shouyou,"_ the recipient reads, _"_ _Please swallow your food before speaking. Tsukishima Kei."_ Shouyou looks up and Kei worries that he’s gone too far, but then Shouyou laughs heartily, mouth still full. “You’re really funny, Tsukishima-kun,” he bellows, patting Kei heavily on the shoulder and carelessly crumpling the note. Kei grimaces.

It is then that the gods decide that Kei has suffered enough, and Yamaguchi enters the room. His eyes meet Kei’s, in them a shifting mixture of shock and apology, and Kei offers a weak smile in return.

“Hey, Yama!” Shouyou calls out, and Yamaguchi’s eyes leave Kei’s to focus on him instead. “Tsukishima Kei is in our house!” Shouyou gestures exaggeratedly at Kei, at which Yamaguchi lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I know, Hinata, I brought him here,” Yamaguchi replies, then looks back at Kei. “You ready to go?”

Kei has never nodded so vigorously in his life. Yamaguchi laughs again, and Kei feels the orange-induced tension begin to leave his body.

“Okay,” he smiles at Kei, freckles disappearing into the creases around his eyes, and while Kei has grown fond of those freckles, he can’t find it in himself to mourn their loss when faced with such radiant joy. Yamaguchi turns back to Shouyou. “We’re going now, Hinata. Have a good night!”

Then Yamaguchi grabs Kei’s wrist, leading him back towards the door as Shouyou calls his bemused goodbyes at their retreating backs. Kei barely hears him though, lost in the electric heat of Yamaguchi’s palm against his skin.

-x-

Reluctantly, Tadashi lets go of Tsukishima’s arm when they’re out of the house and on the street. As soon as the contact is severed, Tsukishima shoves both hands deep into his jean pockets. Tadashi does the same in an attempt to hide how he bunches his hand into a fist, as if he’s trying to trap the warmth of Tsukishima’s skin there.

Tadashi begins to walk in the direction that leads towards the center of town and Tsukishima follows alongside. The silence that has settled around them is bordering on uncomfortable, and Tadashi silently begs for Tsukishima to break it before he explodes. Luckily, Tsukishima does.

“So I think your roommate has put me off bananas for life,” he remarks casually.

Laughter bursts from Tadashi’s mouth. “I did warn you,” he manages between giggles, and he’s delighted to see that Tsukishima is grinning beside him.

“That you did,” he nods solemnly. “I assume you have a destination in mind and we’re not just walking aimlessly?”

Tadashi chuckles again, shaking his head at Tsukishima’s sarcasm. He _really_ likes Tsukishima’s sarcasm. “I _do_ have a destination in mind,” he assures. “It’s not too far. I hope you don’t mind the walk?” Tadashi asks, glancing over. 

Tipping his head back to look at the darkening sky, Tsukishima smiles softly. The breath catches in Tadashi’s throat.

“I don’t mind at all.”

Conversation is easy as they walk, and when they reach the end of their journey the sun has set and there are a few lonely stars in the sky. There is a row of restaurants and bars lining the street, and Tsukishima follows as Tadashi leads him into one. Soon, they are seated and looking at menus.

“It’s nice here,” Tsukishima comments, pausing before adding, “Quiet.”

“I imagine it’s not as fancy as you’re used to,” Tadashi says, smiling shyly, “but I like it.” He jumps when he feels Tsukishima’s foot nudge his beneath the table.

“It’s perfect,” Tsukishima assures him, looking pointedly into Tadashi’s eyes. Ever predictable, Tadashi melts under the hold of his gaze, heat creeping up his neck.

Clearing his throat, Tadashi nods, and Tsukishima seems to be satisfied with this response, eyes returning to his menu. They read in companionable silence for a minute before Tsukishima speaks again.

“You haven’t asked me anything about my work,” he says hesitantly. His eyes haven’t left the menu but Tadashi can see that they’ve stopped moving, still as Tsukishima waits for him to say something.

“Sorry,” offers Tadashi uncertainly. “I didn’t know if it was something you’d want to talk about. I don’t want you to think that’s why I like y– like spending time with you.” Tadashi internally curses himself and prays that Tsukishima didn’t notice his slip-up. If he did, his face doesn’t show it, expression even as he regards Tadashi.

“I think you’re the first person who’s been genuine with me since I’ve been doing this,” he says, eyes darting back to the menu as pink dusts his high cheekbones. “Other than my brother. And Kuroo, I suppose.” His eyes flicker back up to briefly meet Tadashi’s. “So thank you.”

Tadashi’s heart is pounding against his chest. He wishes he could live in this moment, just him and Tsukishima and his unbearably earnest voice and his lightly flushed cheeks. Sarcastic Tsukishima he really likes, but Tadashi fears that Sincere Tsukishima will surely be the end of him.

“Tell me about your brother,” he requests, voice hushed as if to preserve the delicate atmosphere Tsukishima’s admission had created. He knows he’s said the right thing when Tsukishima’s lips curve into the subtlest of smiles and he meets Tadashi’s eyes once more.

They talk for what feels like hours, through drinks and a starter and a main course and even a dessert – a strawberry shortcake that Tsukishima insists they share – and even then, Tadashi doesn’t want the night to end. When Tsukishima takes the bill from him, Tadashi flounders.

“Tsukki, no!” he exclaims, reaching across the table to try and snatch it from him. He can’t reach, and Tsukishima fixes him with a _look,_ a single eyebrow raised.

 _“Yamaguchi,"_ he says, a warning, and Tadashi deflates, grumbling. Tsukishima laughs at this, a short exhalation through his nose.

They’re waiting for a member of staff to come and settle the bill when Tadashi hears a voice from across the restaurant.

“Is that Tsukishima Kei?” it says in a stage-whisper.

“Shit, I think it is!” replies another voice in a similar tone. “Wait, he’s here with a _guy?"_

Tadashi shoots Tsukishima a concerned look, hoping he hadn’t heard. Tsukishima’s eyes are staring holes into the table before them, his hands clenched in fists. He had.

“Ha!” the first voice scoffs. “I knew it! He _had_ to have sucked some dicks to get signed, he’s not even _good!"_

The other voice snickers and Tadashi’s blood boils. Before he can stop himself he’s rising to his feet. Tsukishima’s eyes are wide as he stares up at Tadashi, and they scream, _What are you doing?! Stop!_ But Tadashi doesn’t stop. He marches over to the table where the voices are still snickering and stands before them, shoulders squared, glaring down.

Two faces look up at him, unimpressed, waiting for him to explain his intrusion.

“Can I help you?” one says, an unremarkable man with cruel eyes.

“You can, actually,” Tadashi spits, venomous, “by going over there and apologising to my friend.” He’s seething, but the two seem only to find this funnier, smirking as he glares down at them.

“Get lost,” the same one laughs, and the other titters along.

Tadashi opens his mouth, but before words can leave it he feels a firm hand on his upper arm and Tsukishima is by his side, gripping him.

“Please excuse my friend,” Tsukishima says, tone even and measured. “His tolerance for loud assholes is rather low, especially when they’re so obnoxiously vulgar.” The two stare up at Tsukishima, dumbfounded, but he is unfazed. “Enjoy your meal. Do take care not to choke.”

Then he pulls Tadashi to the exit, as calm and casual as ever, his hand never leaving Tadashi’s bicep. When they get outside, the adrenaline has left Tadashi’s system and he feels nothing but panic, shame, and the intense need to apologise to Tsukishima.

“Tsukki, I’m so sorr–” he starts, but he’s cut off by Tsukishima’s lips pressing against his.

The kiss is chaste, but hard, and Tsukishima is squeezing Tadashi’s arm, holding on for dear life. Tadashi’s body is rigid with shock, his eyes wide open, and it’s only as Tsukishima is pulling away that Tadashi realises he didn’t kiss him back. He’s mentally screaming as Tsukishima’s grip on his arm loosens, both of their chests heaving.

“Don’t– Don’t be sorry,” Tsukishima forces out, clearly with great difficulty, as he takes a step back from Tadashi and releases his arm.

“Okay,” is all Tadashi can think to reply, still stunned.

Tsukishima’s breathing evens out and he composes himself, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. Tadashi stares, still starving for air.

“I have to go,” Tsukishima says then, tone unreadable, and then he’s leaving, only briefly glancing back at Tadashi. Tadashi can do nothing but watch him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that I love Hinata Shouyou? Because I doooo.
> 
> Hope you liked it! Expect a longer wait for the next chapter, but it's all planned out so it shouldn't take longer than a week.  
> As always, comments and concrit hugely desired, and come scream at me of twitter if you do so wish @burnthisoka <3


	5. Bugger This For a Bunch of Bananas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, would you look at that. I'm updating again because I don't sleep and this fic permeates my every waking thought. I will know no peace until it is done. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Tadashi doesn’t remember walking home. He doesn’t remember walking through his front door, or brushing off Hinata’s questions about how his night was. He doesn’t remember climbing into bed, still fully dressed, and he doesn’t remember falling asleep.

What he does remember, as his eyes shoot open, is that he didn’t set an alarm. Throwing back the bed sheets, Tadashi shoots up, suddenly more alert than he’s ever been. Where is his phone? He pats himself down, jean-clad legs sweating underneath his blanket. It’s in his pocket. He checks the time. _Shit._ He’s late. Really late.

Less than 10 minutes later, Tadashi is out the door, sprinting towards the store. He just _knows_ that Noya won’t let him hear the end of this, not after all the times he’s scolded Noya for this exact thing. When he bursts into the store, short of breath, it’s empty but for Noya, who watches him, wide-eyed.

“Dude, are you okay?” he asks sincerely as a disheveled Tadashi huffs towards the counter. Tadashi finds the concern to be even worse than the expected admonishing.

“Just overslept,” he sighs, settling in his seat at the counter beside Noya. The worry lines between Noya’s eyebrows don’t budge. Tadashi pointedly ignores them, running his hand through his bangs and cringing slightly at the obvious bed head.

“Shouyou texted me, said you’d had a rough night,” Noya says as he rests a broad hand on Tadashi’s shoulder. Tadashi tenses. “I can handle this place on my own, you know, if you–”

Tadashi cuts him off by standing abruptly. “No, Noya, I’m fine,” he assures half-heartedly. Then after a moment’s thought, “I just need to call Yachi.”

Noya nods enthusiastically, clearly satisfied with the compromise, and Tadashi goes into the back store room where he can charge his phone as he calls – because of course he hadn’t put it on charge last night.

He closes the door behind him before sinking to the floor next to the outlet. Yachi’s number is one of his most recently called, and only rings a couple of times before she answers.

“Tadashi?” she squeaks over the line. Tadashi smiles unconsciously.

“Yacchan, I need your advice.” He gets straight to the point; he and Yachi are far past the need for small-talk.

She just hums in response, letting him know that she’s listening. Tadashi realises that she’s probably at work too. Well, he’s already here now, may as well spill it.

“I met someone,” he starts vaguely, and Yachi hums again. “And well, I thought he liked me too, for a little while, but then he just...left.” He knows he’s not being specific enough, and that Yachi will probably call him out on it.

She does, of course.

“Tadashi, I think you’re going to have to start from the beginning,” she prompts gently. Tadashi smiles again.

“I only met him a couple days ago, Yachi, but he’s just,” he hesitates, searching for a word big enough. He doesn’t find one. “He’s incredible. I was _sure_ he wouldn’t like me but then he asked me out and we had the _best_ night until some _assholes_ said some shitty things about him and I kind of lost my temper and it was _awful_ but then he _kissed_ me and it was _amazing_ but I was so nervous I just stood there and then he just _left,_ just like that, and I don’t know what it _means."_ As he finishes he realises he hadn’t stopped for a breath once. He exhales forcefully, waiting for Yachi to reply.

She does, after a short pause. “Tadashi, that was...a lot,” she says simply. Tadashi puffs out an incredulous laugh, rubbing his free hand down his face.

“I _know,"_ he whines. “I don’t even have his number. Well not his personal one, so, like, I can’t even just shoot him a text,” he laments. “What if I messed up?” he adds quietly, voice thick with emotion. He hears Yachi pause, like she’d been only half-focused on the call before. He knows that her attention was now undivided.

“He’s that special?” she asks softly. Tadashi nods vigorously. Even from the other end of the line she seems to sense his response. “You didn’t mess up, Tadashi,” she swears. “It sounds like he really likes you, too.”

Tadashi sighs, a mix of relief and skepticism, then gulps. “So what do I do?” He can almost hear her thinking, and he imagines her leaning back in her desk chair, tapping her chin as she ponders.

“Well, if you can’t contact him, I think you’ll just have to have faith,” she says finally. While it wasn’t the answer he may have been looking for, Tadashi knows that she’s right.

“Okay,” he sighs. “You’re right. As always.”

“Yep!” she chirps. “That’s why you always come to me for advice!” He can tell that she’s trying to cheer him up. It works a little bit.

“Hmm, right again,” he chuckles faintly.

“You’ll have to tell me about him properly this weekend,” Yachi says, plainly having seen through Tadashi’s ambiguity. He never can get anything past her.

“I will,” he promises. “In the meantime, I think we should both get back to work.”

“Speak for yourself!” she admonishes. “Bye, Tadashi.”

“See you soon, Yacchan.”

Hanging up, Tadashi takes a deep breath. _Have faith._ It doesn’t seem very proactive, but it’s all he’s got.

He feels almost renewed as he exits the store room, less panicked and more resolved. That feeling is quickly washed away when he catches a glimpse of Noya’s face.

Noya is staring at his phone, his expression a picture of pure bewilderment and disbelief. When he hears Tadashi return to his seat beside him he quickly flits his gaze between the phone and Tadashi’s face. Tadashi leans around to try and see what has Noya so agitated, but Noya snatches his phone from Tadashi’s line of sight.

“Yamaguchi Tadashi!” he shouts accusingly. All Tadashi can do is shrug, shaking his head in confusion. Suddenly, Noya is thrusting his phone in Tadashi’s face, but it’s too close to make out what’s on the screen. All he can see is that it’s a low quality photo, probably taken with a phone camera at night time. He looks back at Noya, who is still looking extremely offended. Never in his wildest imagination would Tadashi have been able to predict what Noya would say next.

“When were you gonna tell me you're dating Tsukishima Kei?!”

-x-

Kei is pacing the studio, as he has been for the past 20 minutes. Kuroo is looking nervously at Kenma, who is looking nervously back. On the desk in front of them lies Kenma’s phone, the screen long since gone black, but no one touches it. It sits like a bomb between them; only a bomb could have caused this calamity.

“Tsukki, will you just sit down?” Kuroo attempts, hands up in front of him as if to placate Kei.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” is Kei’s response. He continues to pace.

“The photo isn't that big a deal.” It’s Kenma’s turn to try. “It’ll be forgotten by tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the fucking photo.” Kei keeps pacing.

He sees Kuroo and Kenma share a look but he ignores them. He doesn’t care about them right now. He doesn’t care about anything but Yamaguchi. Because he fucked up. He kissed Yamaguchi and fucked everything up, and now that monumental fuck-up has been immortalised by some nosy shit with a smartphone.

Has Yamaguchi seen it yet? Kei has no doubt that he will soon enough. How will Yamaguchi react? Will he be angry? He hadn’t even wanted the kiss; Kei had felt him grow tense under his lips, but of course, Yamaguchi had been too polite to pull away. Or he’d been in shock. Kei is livid.

At himself, of course. Not Yamaguchi. Never Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi had done nothing wrong. He had been kind and good. He had treated Kei like a fucking person. And Kei had kissed him and ruined it all.

He stops pacing abruptly, startling Kuroo and Kenma. They both stare up at him expectantly.

“I’m going home,” is all he says, and without waiting for a reply he does just that.

-x-

Weekend comes without any word from Tsukishima, and Tadashi finds that his faith is wearing thin. He sits at his kitchen table with Noya and Hinata – the only two who know about Tsukishima, even if only by accident – and Kageyama, who knows everything that Hinata knows, as if by way of shared brain cells. Tadashi’s head is in his hands.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” he groans, the words muffled by his hands. He feels a heavy hand pat his back.

“Who needs him anyway?” says Noya, owner of said hand. “What kinda guy just kisses someone and then leaves?”

“Yeah!” agrees Hinata. “You’re way too good for Stupidshima! I’m gonna delete all his music from my playlists right now!”

The two continue for a while, exchanging a selection of colourful names one could use to describe Tsukishima. Yamaguchi doesn’t agree with a single one of them. When Kageyama, who had up til now been silent, clears his throat, Tadashi lets his hands drop from his face to look at him.

“Wait, I think I might be confused.” The three of them watch Kageyama expectantly. “Yamaguchi, why don’t you like Tsukishima any more?”

Tadashi swallows loudly. “I do, Kageyama, I just don’t think _he_ still likes _me."_

Kageyama cocks his head in confusion. “But it’s only been three days. How could you know that?”

Taken aback by Kageyama’s characteristic bluntness, Tadashi doesn’t know what to say. He looks around the table and, to his surprise, the faces that look back at him seem to await his answer. He doesn’t quite have one.

“To be fair, Kageyama does have a point,” says Noya somewhat reluctantly. “Isn’t that some sort of rule? Like you have to wait three days before you can talk to the person after a date?”

“Oh, I think I know that one!” exclaims Hinata. “Maybe this means he double likes you? Like, the longer he waits, the more he likes you?”

Tadashi laughs. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he replies, but he does feel better. Maybe he’s just being dramatic. Maybe he just needs to keep having faith. If Tsukishima wants to see Tadashi then he will. After all, he knows where to find him.

-x-

Kei barely notices when Saturday rolls around, having been away from the studio for the latter half of the week. He lies on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling with un-bespectacled eyes.

Hardly anyone cared about the photo. It was too dark to really see anything, Kei only recognisable thanks to his height and bright blond hair. No one knew that the other person was Yamaguchi – at least outside of Kuroo, Kenma, and presumably Yamaguchi – and without that information it didn’t make for a very interesting story. Kei is glad. He would have never forgiven himself for dragging Yamaguchi into some sort of tabloid scandal.

He wonders how Yamaguchi would have handled it had he been discovered. ‘We’re just friends!’ Kei pictures him saying to some underpaid reporter, and he feels his gut twist.

Sitting up, he rubs his eyes with his knuckles before locating his glasses. He’s lost count of how many times he’s thought of Yamaguchi since the kiss. How many times he’s thought of those freckles that get lost in the crinkles of his eyes when he smiles. Or the set of his broad shoulders as he’d foolishly defended Kei’s honour. Honour doesn’t mean a thing to Kei. Yamaguchi does, though.

But he’s already ruined it. He knows he should apologise; he’s wanted to since he saw the photo, since the second his lips left Yamaguchi’s, but going to his house could lead reporters or photographers and Kei just couldn’t push that all onto Yamaguchi.

His phone sits on the table beside his bed, and Kei eyes it with uncertainty. He hasn’t actually spoken to anyone about what happened, not properly; he had to tell Kenma the basics for PR reasons, and there’s no point in telling Kenma anything and expecting Kuroo not to find out. But that was work. He hasn’t spoken to anyone about how he _feels,_ and while that is usually how he prefers it, right now he finds himself craving some kind words and advice.

With a final resigned sigh, he picks up his phone and calls his brother.

“Well this is a surprise!” the voice on the end of the line announces after a few rings. Kei rubs his eyes under his glasses with his free hand, already half regretting his decision.

“Hello to you too, Akiteru,” he deadpans back. Then, sheepishly, “Sorry it’s been a while.”

“Don’t worry about it, little bro!” Akiteru replies, a smile evident in his voice. Kei rolls his eyes at the nickname. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kei curses his own predictability, because of course Akiteru knows that Kei wouldn’t just call him for a casual chat. Akiteru knows that Kei only calls when he wants something. Even if that something is just to speak to someone who sees him as a person and not a trophy or a paycheck.

“I’ve messed up,” he says simply, with a sigh. There’s a pause where Akiteru waits for him to continue.

“Go on,” he prompts when Kei doesn’t.

“I like someone. We went on a date and I came on too strong. I think I might have scared him off.”

“Kei,” Akiteru says, and it somehow sounds like a reprimand. “If I know you, I know that what you consider ‘coming on too strong’ is what most people would consider subtle. What could you have _possibly_ done?”

“I kissed him.”

 _“Oooooh!”_ comes Akiteru’s high-pitched reply. Kei thinks that maybe he’s enjoying this. _Idiot._ “Then what?”

“Well he didn’t kiss me back so I left.”

There’s a pause, and it feels heavy with a question. Kei waits.

“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” Akiteru says. “You kissed him, then _you_ ran away, and somehow you think that you scared _him_ off?”

It sounds stupid when he puts it like that, but Kei doesn’t back down.

“Yes.”

 _“Okaaaay,”_ Akiteru drawls, undoubtedly thinking that Kei is missing something. “And have you spoken about it?”

“No,” Kei responds, and he hears Akiteru groan. “I don’t have his number,” he justifies. “And someone got a photo of the kiss and it turned into a whole _thing_ on social media so I didn’t want to turn up at his house in case it got him even more dragged into it. And well,” he adds self-consciously, “what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Kei, for someone so smart you really are an idiot,” chides Akiteru. “You’re getting so worked up and worried without even knowing how _he_ feels about this. Just go and talk to him, dummy.”

Of course, as always, Akiteru puts things into perspective and makes all of Kei’s overthinking seem irrational. It’s a feature that Kei simultaneously despises and admires. One might even say that he is grateful for it.

When Kei doesn’t respond, Akiteru takes his silence as confirmation. “Well, I guess my work is done. Let me know how it goes, little bro!” he calls before hanging up.

Kei just stares at his phone for a long moment. He supposes it really is that simple; he just has to go and speak to Yamaguchi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Yamayachi HC for this fic is that they dated for a while but broke up when Yachi realised she was a lesbian. Now they are best friends. MLM & WLW solidarity.
> 
> Come shout at me about TSKYM on Twitter! @burnthisoka <3


	6. Can I Stay For A While? (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have a double update this time as these next 2 chapters are 2 halves of a whole. Double enjoy!

Standing in front of Yamaguchi’s house, face-to-face with that blue front door, Kei’s heart is pounding. The sun is almost setting; it had taken Kei the full day to psych himself up to come here after his call with Akiteru. Well, that, and he had to check with Kenma one last time that the photo was really forgotten and no one was waiting to pounce on Yamaguchi when Kei revealed his whereabouts. Kenma had assured him that would not happen. Kei is holding him to that.

With one last deep breath, he knocks.

Seconds tick by, and Kei feels like his heart could spill from his mouth if not for the firm clench of his jaw. Just when it’s all starting to feel too much, the door swings open.

Yamaguchi stands there in an oversized t-shirt and sweats rolled up to the knees, his bangs pinned back from his forehead. Kei can’t speak. Yamaguchi looks _adorable,_ his mouth puckered in a tiny ‘o’ of surprise at seeing Kei before him. They stare at each other in silence for what feels like an age until Kei regains control of his mental functions.

“Yamaguchi,” is all he says. All he can. Because it’s Yamaguchi, standing there so effortlessly magnificent and clearly oblivious to the effect he has on Kei.

Yamaguchi smiles, that smile that crinkles up his eyes and nose and halves the number of freckles on his face and Kei knows he’s never going to get used to that smile. It knocks the air from his lungs. It ties his stomach into a sailor’s knot, tight and true. It holds his heart in a vice grip, one that promises not to let go. Kei doesn’t want it to let go.

“Hello, Tsukki,” replies Yamaguchi, jasper eyes alive and alight. He steps back as if to invite Kei in, but Kei can’t move. He is rooted.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, and Yamaguchi’s mouth becomes that little ‘o’ once more. But Kei needs to say this. All of it. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, and I shouldn’t have run away, and I definitely shouldn’t have waited this long to say this to you.” Yamaguchi is blinking in bewilderment, but Kei continues. “I’m sorry for dragging you into a stupid social media story. I’m sorry that I didn’t thank you for standing up to those idiots.” He should stop speaking. “I’m sorry that I’ve just showed up here out of the blue expecting your forgiveness.” He can’t stop speaking. “I’m sorry that I want to kiss you again.”

Kei is out of breath. That may be the most he has ever said at one time and it has exhausted him. He stares into Yamaguchi’s eyes as he gasps for air. They’re still blinking slowly, still trying to process everything that Kei has just dumped on his doorstep. Then Yamaguchi steps forward, gripping his fists in the front of Kei’s jacket, and he’s leaning up to press his lips softly against Kei’s.

This kiss carries none of the desperation of the first. It is gentle, sweet, honest. It is Yamaguchi, and Kei cannot get enough. He brings his hands up to cup Yamaguchi’s jaw, grazing his thumb over the pink-tinted freckles of his cheek. When Yamaguchi pulls away, Kei follows, lips chasing the lost contact, starving for it. Yamaguchi does not oblige, instead speaking into the inch of mingled breath between their mouths.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs.

-x-

Tsukishima sits at the kitchen table as Tadashi makes tea. Tadashi’s face still feels as if it’s sunburnt, skin ablaze in tracks where Tsukishima’s hands swept feather-light lines as they kissed. _As they kissed._ Breath catching for the umpteenth time since Tsukishima’s appearance at his doorstep, Tadashi finds himself glad that his back is to Tsukishima. He uses this moment of privacy to grin, eyes scrunched shut, a silent scream in his throat.

As he returns to the table and places the mugs down, Tsukishima’s golden eyes watch him unabashedly, a minute smile on his lips. Tadashi’s face grows impossibly hotter. He brings his mug up in an attempt to hide the colour, but the action is futile, of course.

“Thank you for the tea,” Tsukishima says, eyes still glued to Tadashi. Tadashi just nods from behind his mug. Tsukishima’s smile grows a fraction. It makes Tadashi’s chest flutter, only this time he doesn’t mind it. In fact, he welcomes it. The excited flutters don’t seem so silly when their cause is attainable, close enough to touch, to _kiss._

They drink in silence for a while, stealing glances at each other across the table. Tadashi feels giddy. He remembers how Tsukishima said he wanted to kiss him and Tadashi’s heart skips. When his eyes flit inevitably back to Tsukishima, he finds honey golden eyes already looking back. It’s intoxicating.

The moment is shattered when Hinata strolls into the kitchen.

“Oh! It’s Tsukishima!” he exclaims. Tadashi sees the peaceful expression fall from Tsukishima’s face, replaced by one of exasperation. He suppresses a laugh.

“It is indeed,” Tadashi responds, smiling up at Hinata. He notices that Hinata is dressed rather nicely, having traded his usual hoody for a button-down, his athletic shorts for slacks. Tadashi’s brow furrows. Wait a minute...

“Is he coming with us to the party?” Hinata asks, and it clicks in Tadashi’s head.

“Oh shit, that’s tonight!” He slaps his hand against his forehead, a punishment for his forgetfulness. Curse Tsukishima and his memory-erasing lips. He turns to Tsukishima, who is looking at him with a curious raised eyebrow. “It’s my friend’s birthday, I can’t miss it,” he starts to explain, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Tsukishima cuts him off by clearing his throat.

“If that invitation is valid,” he says turning to Hinata, “I would love to come.” He turns back to Tadashi for the answer, eyes intense, irises swirling like molten gold around a crucible. Tadashi melts.

“Just let me get changed and we can go,” he grins back, rising to leave.

Tadashi drives them to Tanaka and Kiyoko’s house, Tsukishima beside him in the passenger seat, Hinata rambling enthusiastically in the back. The drive isn’t long, but they have to make a stop when Tsukishima insists that he cannot turn up to a stranger’s party empty-handed. Hinata agrees, so they stop to pick up a bottle of wine and a six pack of beers. Despite Tadashi’s protests, Tsukishima pays. Hinata shouts his thanks as he swipes the beers.

They pile back into the car, all satisfied with their purchases, and Tadashi glances at Tsukishima as he starts up the engine. Tsukishima is already smiling softly back, and Tadashi’s stomach swoops. How easy it would be to reach across and entwine their hands over the hand break. Tadashi fears he will combust to ash before the night is done.

When they step out of the car at their destination, the sky is black and sprinkled with stars, a beautiful backdrop for the Tanakas’ modest but pretty home. Hinata bounds towards the front door, then pounds on it with his fist. Tadashi watches with a smile, but is startled by Tsukishima’s sudden appearance at his side, and the feel of long fingers brushing the back of his hand.

“Come on, then,” Tsukishima prompts quietly, slipping his palm flush against Tadashi’s and pulling him gently along before Tadashi even has a chance to regain the function of his lungs.

By the time they reach the threshold, the door is open and Tanaka is greeting Hinata with a full body hug, both of them laughing brightly. After allowing Hinata inside, Tanaka finally looks up at Tadashi, and his smile falters when his eyes move just a fraction to the side to fall on Tsukishima.

“Wh– Bu–” he stammers, eyes wide. Tsukishima is undeterred, and holds out the hand that isn’t holding Tadashi’s – Oh _God,_ that’s actually happening – and offers the bottle of wine to Tanaka.

“Tskuishima Kei. Thank you for your hospitality,” he says, bowing slightly.

Tanaka doesn’t take the bottle, blinking owlishly. “Tsukishima Kei,” he repeats, dazed and disbelieving. Then suddenly he’s snapped out of it, turning and marching back into the house, shouting, “Noya! You were actually being serious?!”

“Of course I was!” they hear Noya bellow back from somewhere inside the house, and Tadashi raises his hand to his mouth to hide his snickers. Tsukishima offers him a bemused smile, wine-encumbered hand still out-held.

Tadashi pulls him by their joined hands and leads them inside, closing the door behind them.

“I’m going to apologise in advance for the behaviour of my friends tonight,” he chuckles. “I promise they’re not always like this.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Tsukishima murmurs in response, voice low as he leans in towards Tadashi. Tadashi stretches upwards on instinct, but before they can close the space between them they are interrupted by a gentle cough.

Both of them spin to face the source. Kiyoko stands there, a knowing smile on her lips. Tadashi feels his face glow crimson, feels Tsukishima’s hand twitch in his. Then Kiyoko gestures towards the wine bottle.

“Is that for the kitchen?” she asks. Tsukishima thrusts it towards her, bowing.

“Thank you for allowing me into your home,” he rushes out, and Tadashi can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

“Yes, thank you, Kiyoko-san,” he smiles.

“They’re all through there,” she points as she takes the bottle, then leaves towards the kitchen. Tadashi directs Tsukishima through where she had gestured.

They find most of those invited in the room; Hinata sits with Noya and Tanaka, while Yachi talks animatedly at a frowning Kageyama, and Saeko and Ukai laugh with a bashful Takinoue. Looks like only the birthday boy is missing. Yachi is the first to notice Tadashi’s arrival, face lighting up as she weaves through bodies to reach him. She glances up at Tsukishima, then down at their still clasped hands, and finally back up at Tadashi before raising her eyebrows.

“Good to see you, Tadashi,” she grins, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He is momentarily reluctant to let go of Tsukishima’s hand, but does anyway so that he can wrap her in a hug.

“You too, Yacchan,” he beams, pulling away. “This is Tsukishima,” he places his hand on Tsukishima’s forearm, happy for any excuse to re-initiate contact, “Tsukishima, this is Yachi.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Yachi-san,” Tsukishima nods.

“And you,” Yachi replies, but she’s looking at Tadashi, eyes sparkling, silently asking him for the whole story. _I promise I’ll tell you later,_ he tries to telepathically convey with his own pointed look.

A knock at the door cuts through the room’s interweaving conversations.

“The birthday boy has arrived!” calls Saeko with a grin.


	7. You Can Stay Forever (Part 2)

Tadashi is the one to answer the door and finds himself swept into a hug the moment it is open.

“Tadashi!” exclaims Shimada, ruffling Tadashi’s hair. They both laugh.

“Happy birthday, Makoto,” Tadashi chuckles. “Come in, come in. Only you would be late to your own party,” he jokes as he ushers Shimada inside. He’s eager to get back to Tsukishima, who he left alone in the room with his friends. Fed him to the sharks, more like. Shimada seems happy to take his time, though, slowly kicking off his shoes and hanging his coat.

“It’s been far too long, Tadashi,” he says as he moves, pace leisurely. “Tell me, what have you been up to?”

Tadashi smiles hesitantly. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get in there.”

-x-

Kei is unsure why it is Yamaguchi’s duty to answer the door but he says nothing. He just watches Yamaguchi leave, and when he turns back to the small woman he had just met – Yachi – he finds her smiling up at him.

“Tsukishima-san,” she says, “you should come and meet the others.” And before he has a chance to protest, to tell her that he’d rather wait for Yamaguchi first, she has a hold of his wrist and is pulling him towards the other chatting groups.

“Shouyou, Tobio,” she calls, “have you been introduced to Tsukishima?”

Hinata smiles and waves casually, and Kei somehow finds it comforting. “Yeah, we’ve met a couple times,” he says. “Thanks again for the beer!” He holds the can up, then takes a swig.

“How tall are you?” the dark-haired man beside him asks, foregoing a proper introduction. Tsukishima doesn’t get a chance to answer.

“Kageyama, you idiot, at least introduce yourself first!” Hinata scolds.

“Shut up, dumbass!” Kageyama shouts back. Yachi promptly guides Kei away from them as they bicker.

The one who answered the door to Kei and Yamaguchi, the man with the buzzcut, approaches them next, followed by a short, broad man with spiked black hair, a flash of it dyed blonde in the front.

“Tsukishima Kei, we are your biggest fans,” claims the short one, grasping his hands in a firm grip.

“Truly, the _biggest,"_ Buzzcut joins in, cupping his hands around his friend’s. Both of them look starstruck, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes, and Kei feels incredibly awkward.

“Thank you,” he forces out, unable to tear his hands from their grip. He turns to silently beg Yachi for aid, only to find that she has rejoined Hinata and Kageyama in conversation.

“Hey, sis!” Buzzcut shouts across the room, “Tsukishima Kei is in my house!”

A woman with a blonde bob strides over and claps Kei on the back with a grin.

“No way! Your stuff is pretty good, you know,” she tells him. “You should call me if you ever need a drummer!” She nudges him with a wink.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he responds, internally wishing and hoping and _praying_ for Yamaguchi to return soon.

His prayers are answered when everyone’s attention is drawn to the doorway where Yamaguchi, Kiyoko, and a man who is presumably the ‘birthday boy’ enter. Buzzcut and Blond Streak finally release him to bounce over to meet them. Kei just watches as everyone exchanges cheerful greetings. Yamaguchi catches his eye and smiles, glowing and genuine, and suddenly Kei doesn’t feel so out of place.

“Oh, I don’t know you,” he hears then, and he sees a man with dark hair and glasses looking at him. “Shimada Makoto, guest of honour,” the man introduces himself, holding out a hand for Kei to shake. Kei takes it.

“Tsukishima Kei, I’m here with Yamaguchi,” he says, then awkwardly adds on, “Happy birthday.”

Shimada grins. “I see! You must be special, our Tadashi hasn’t let us meet anyone since Yachi!” Out of the corner of his eye, Kei sees Yachi has turned beet red. He looks back at Yamaguchi, who has his face in his hands. “Actually, I’m not sure he’s _been_ with anyone since Yachi.”

“Okay!” Yamaguchi shouts, stopping Shimada in his tracks. “Would anyone like a drink? Because I would love a drink, so I’m gonna go get a drink.” He sounds frantic. Somehow, Kei finds this very cute. “Tsukishima.” Yamaguchi grabs his wrist. “Let's go get a drink.”

They make it to the kitchen unfollowed and Yamaguchi releases his arm. Kei wishes he hadn’t.

“I don’t think my earlier apology was enough, so let me reiterate how _deeply, profoundly_ sorry I am for them.” Yamaguchi hasn’t met Kei’s eyes. “Yachi is my best friend. We did date and now we don’t. I know that might be weird for some people but–”

“Yamaguchi,” Kei interrupts, stepping towards him. When Yamaguchi still doesn’t look up, Kei takes another step. He raises his hand, softly sweeping Yamaguchi’s bangs back from his face, and Yamaguchi finally looks up. “It’s not weird,” Kei tells him.

And he means it. Because what does it matter? The past is the past, and it’s none of his business to begin with. Kei just hopes that Yamaguchi will let him be a part of his future.

Yamaguchi sighs. “Okay,” he whispers. Then he leans forward, pressing his face into Kei’s chest and breathing deeply.

As if by reflex, Kei brings his arms up to wind around Yamaguchi’s waist. Yamaguchi’s palms are pressed flat against Kei’s chest, and Kei wonders if he can feel the pounding of his heart. Smiling to himself, he buries his face in Yamaguchi’s hair. _So soft._

“Are you smelling my hair?” comes Yamaguchi’s muffled voice.

“No,” Kei grins, nosing deeper into the crown of Yamaguchi’s head. It does smell nice. Like lavender. Sweet and calming.

He feels Yamaguchi start to pull away, so he loosens his hold but doesn’t completely let go. They both lean back to look at each other. Yamaguchi is beaming and Kei can’t look away. He doesn’t want to.

“Come on,” Yamaguchi says, “lets get those drinks.”

-x-

When they re-enter the main room, everyone seems preoccupied with their conversations. Tadashi thanks his lucky stars; he’s not sure how much more embarrassment he can take at the hands of his friends. As it turns out, his stars are not so lucky, as Shimada spots them only a second later and beckons them over to where he’s chatting with Yachi, Kiyoko, Saeko, and Tanaka. Tadashi groans, reluctantly obliging.

“Get over here, Tsukishima,” Shimada urges as they get close. “Come tell me about yourself! Tadashi, quit frowning, I’ll behave,” he vows. Tadashi rolls his eyes but can’t help the smile that invades his face. “So, Tsukishima, what do you do?”

Tadashi just about manages to stop himself from laughing and looks expectantly at Tsukishima, whose face remains as composed as ever. The Tanaka siblings share a look, clearly holding in their own giggles. Yachi is looking at the floor, covering her mouth with a small hand, and Kiyoko bites her lip as she sweeps a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Shimada patiently waits for Tsukishima’s response.

“Well,” Tsukishima starts, tone even, “I’m in the music industry.”

“It’s a fickle business, that one,” proclaims Shimada, shaking his head. “How is it? Is the work steady?”

The whole group collectively strain to keep their laughter contained. Shimada remains oblivious, eyes trained on Tsukishima, who looks nothing but serious.

“I do okay,” he says simply.

“Oh yeah? Good money?” Shimada’s tone is skeptical. Only the twinkle in Tsukishima’s eyes gives away his amusement, but Shimada doesn’t notice.

“Pretty good, yes.”

Tadashi can’t hold it back any longer. His laughter bursts from him, and as if a dam had broken, the rest of the group devolve into a fit of giggles. Shimada looks between them all, perplexed. Even Tsukishima is smiling as Tadashi grips his side.

“I’m sorry, what is happening?” Shimada asks, still bewildered.

“Makoto,” says Saeko, the first of them to pause her laughter for long enough to speak, “Tsukishima is famous. Like, really famous. Tsukishima Kei. You’ve _definitely_ heard of him.”

“Tsukishima Kei,” Shimada parrots, then blanches. “Oh. _That_ Tsukishima Kei. Well shit.”

Tanaka claps him heavily on the shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you, Shimada-san. It _is_ your birthday, after all!”

Shimada is saved from his embarrassment when the lights go out, and Takinoue and Ukai enter the room carrying a large birthday cake covered in lit candles. They lead the room in a rousing rendition of _Happy Birthday_ and a few verses of _For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow._ Even Tsukishima sings along, much to Tadashi’s delight. He takes advantage of the dark to reach for Tsukishima’s hand, and he feels his heart swell when Tsukishima responds, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

The rest of the night thankfully proceeds without any issue. It is filled with little moments of affection and domesticity with Tsukishima that make Tadashi fall a little bit in love every time. Not that he _loves_ Tsukishima. It’s barely been a week since they met, he’s not _in love._ But he feels like he could be, very easily and very quickly, if they keep this up. Tadashi would _love_ to keep this up.

As the night draws to a close, members of the party leave. First Ukai and Takinoue with Shimada, then Saeko, Noya, and Yachi, who discreetly makes Tadashi promise to fill her in on _everything_ to do with Tsukishima as soon as he gets a chance, or sooner, if possible. A tipsy Hinata informs Tadashi that he’s staying at Kageyama’s tonight, and they disappear soon after.

Tadashi and Tsukishima are the last to leave. Tsukishima is charming, thanking Kiyoko and Tanaka once again for having him. Tanaka tells Tsukishima that they’ll be even if he invites them to the next “famous person party” he hears about. Tsukishima assures him that he will.

Finally they say goodbye to the Tanakas and make their way to Tadashi’s car. Once they’re both seated, Tadashi turns to Tsukishima.

“Where to?”

The drive to Tsukishima’s apartment is smooth, the roads fairly empty thanks to the late hour. As they pull up outside the very modern looking tower block, Tadashi feels a sense of dread wash over him. Tonight had gone so well over all, but now that it’s ending he feels an uncomfortable finality. He almost feels scared to look at Tsukishima, instead keeping his eyes on his hands where they grip the steering wheel.

“Tadashi,” Tsukishima says softly. Tadashi almost gets whiplash from how quickly he turns to look at him.

“Wh-what?” he stutters, taken completely aback by Tsukishima’s use of his given name. Tsukishima still faces forward, a gentle smile on his face.

“I didn’t know before,” he turns to Tadashi as he speaks, “that that was your name.” His smile grows. “It suits you.”

Tadashi swallows thickly. His hands still clutch onto the steering wheel. He knows what he wants to say but he isn’t sure how to say it. Even if he did know, could he?

Tsukishima’s smile wavers, his eyebrows drawing together slightly in concern. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I didn’t mean to be so forward, I just–” he stops himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Tadashi just stares at him, eyes wide. “I’ve never felt like this before. I want to– I want _us_ to–” He sighs, clearly frustrated with his uncharacteristic ineloquence. Then he reaches over to the steering wheel to take Tadashi’s hand.

“Yamaguchi,” he starts, Tadashi’s hand held in both of his, his whole body turned towards him. “I know that we don’t know each other that well, and this is technically only our second date, but would you like to...see where this goes? This – us?” He finishes uncertainly.

“Tsukki,” is all Tadashi manages before he’s leaning forward and kissing Tsukishima.

It isn’t comfortable, angled towards each other over the gear stick, but it’s _good._ Tsukishima releases Tadashi’s hand to reach one of his own around the back of Tadashi’s head, burying it in his hair and pulling Tadashi in to deepen the kiss. Tadashi involuntarily makes a strangled noise in his throat and meets Tsukishima’s movements with vigour.

When they pull away, both of them pant for air. Tadashi can’t stop the smile that splits his face as he looks at Tsukishima, dazed and gasping.

“Please tell me that means yes,” Tsukishima heaves. Tadashi just slips his hand behind Tsukishima’s neck and pulls him right back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes our double update. I really hope you liked it! The next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts, and I imagine I'll have it posted rather soon.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos incredibly appreciated, come talk to me on twitter if you want @burnthisoka <333


	8. Lovelier This Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, final chapter!!
> 
> Happy reading, friends!

Tadashi opens his eyes slowly, reluctantly. In an ideal world, he would still be asleep, but Tsuskishima’s apartment is ‘minimalist’, apparently too minimalist for curtains. Daylight assaults him as soon as his eyes finally pry themselves apart. Tadashi immediately abandons the idea and scrunches them closed again, groaning loudly for good measure.

 _"Tsukkiiiii!"_ he calls from his cocoon, voice low and gravelly from sleep. He knows that Tsukishima is awake; he’s always awake before Tadashi, and has usually finished a good number of tasks before Tadashi rises.

The door creaks open a crack and Tsukishima pokes his head through. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Make the sun go away,” Tadashi grumbles, burying himself deeper into the blankets. He hears a soft laugh, then the soft sound of bare feet making their way towards the bed. The bed dips, and then Tsukishima is wiggling his way under the blankets to snake his arms around Tadashi’s middle from behind. Tadashi can’t help but smile.

“That’s quite the request, sweet potato,” Tsukishima mumbles as he nuzzles the junction of Tadashi’s neck and shoulder. Tadashi could almost purr.

“So you can’t do it?” he teases. “Finally, a flaw!”

“Now, I didn’t say _that._ I’ll have it done by tonight.” Tadashi can feel Tsukishima’s smile against his skin, matching his own.

It has been three weeks to the day since Shimada’s birthday party. Tadashi and Tsukishima have gone on a total of nine dates, not including the time spent at each other’s homes. Tsukishima even surprised Tadashi with flowers on one occasion. Tadashi is _smitten._

“Hmm, very clever,” he snarks, and Tsukishima chuckles smugly. _Absolutely_ _smitten_.

-x-

“Akiteru, _please,"_ Kei begs into his phone, eyes trained on the front door of his apartment. Yamaguchi should still be at work for another hour but Kei is still on edge at the thought of him walking in and overhearing this conversation.

“Alright, Kei, I’m just messing. Well, how would _you_ want to be asked?” Akiteru asks.

“I wouldn’t care, if it was him asking I’d say yes,” Kei responds in a tone that implies that this is _very_ obvious.

“Well, then just ask him! ‘Yamaguchi, will you be my boyfriend?’ It’s tried and tested, you can’t go wrong!” Akiteru suggests, patience wearing thin at Kei’s repeated rejection of his suggestions.

“Fine,” Kei sighs, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” Then, just as he’s about to hang up, he adds a mumbled, “Thanks.”

Kei thinks of this conversation now as he lies in bed, arms wrapped around a yawning Yamaguchi. _Just ask him,_ Akiteru’s voice plays in his head. He’d tried to ask last night, when Yamaguchi had come over after work and they’d ordered take out and watched a documentary about space. He chickened out, of course. Time for attempt number two.

“Yamaguchi,” he murmurs, lips touching the soft skin behind Yamaguchi’s ear and brushing against his jaw. Yamaguchi just hums contentedly in response. Kei finds confidence in this. “Be my boyfriend?”

Yamaguchi stills. Kei holds his breath.

“Um,” Yamaguchi starts, turning his face to try and catch Kei’s eyes. “I kind of thought I already was?” Kei can see that his eyebrows are drawn together in confusion.

Kei can’t help it; he laughs. He pulls Yamaguchi tighter towards himself as he laughs from the sheer joy of it, of being here with his absolute favourite person and having him feel the same as Kei does. Yamaguchi’s cheeks have turned pink.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Kei grins. Yamaguchi rolls his eyes, his smile just as wide.

-x-

“I’m not sure if I’m ever gonna get over the fact that Tsukishima Kei is your _boyfriend,"_ Noya says as he and Tadashi sit at the store counter. He sounds awed, and Tadashi can’t help but share the sentiment.

“You know what? Me either,” he grins. A month of official ‘boyfriend’ status – though Tadashi _swears_ it feels longer – and he’s still not over it.

He’s thankful that his life has remained relatively unchanged by the fame of his boyfriend; Tsukishima seems to have the best PR manager going. They try to stay inconspicuous on their dates, both cautious thanks to the infamous kiss photo of their first. They haven’t been back to that restaurant since, and have run into relatively few problems. Kuroo says that’s probably because Tsukishima actually _smiles_ on his dates with Tadashi, and that that’s enough to make him completely unrecognisable to most people. Tsukishima promptly tells him to fuck off.

“And to think, if it had been you who went to get drinks that day, he could have been _my_ boyfriend,” Noya sighs wistfully. Tadashi snorts loudly, earning himself a grin from Noya.

“Aw, better luck next time, buddy,” Tadashi laughs, patting Noya playfully on the shoulder.

The ring of the bell at the door draws their eyes to the front of the store where Tsukishima has just walked in. Tadashi beams.

“We were just talking about you,” he says as Tsukishima comes closer, gratefully accepting the kiss that he plants on Tadashi’s cheek.

“Hmm, do I want to know?” Tsukishima smirks.

“I don’t think you do, actually,” Tadashi chuckles, and Noya laughs along.

“Okay, you two, you’re cute-ing up the place,” Noya quips. “Get out of here before I _die_ of jealousy!”

Noya assures Tadashi that he’s fine to close up alone and Tadashi and Tsukishima leave, hand in hand. Tadashi lets out a contented sigh, the warmth of Tsukishima’s hand in his spreading to his core, the feel of Tsukishima’s long fingers tangled with his reminding him that this is _real,_ Tsukishima is _his._ Three words settle on the tip of his tongue. He bites them back, swallows them down. _Not yet._

“So why’s Nishinoya so jealous?” Tsukishima asks as they make the short walk to Tadashi’s house.

“He’s jealous that I have the best boyfriend _ever,"_ Tadashi grins, nestling closer to Tsukishima’s side.

“Impossible,” Tsukishima says, clearly fighting a smile. “I think you’ll find that _my_ boyfriend is the best. Definitely cuter than yours.”

They reach Tadashi’s doorstep as Tadashi giggles back. He leans up to place a kiss on Tsukishima’s jaw before turning to unlock the door.

“Agree to disagree?” he suggests as they enter and toe off their shoes.

“Anything for you,” Tsukishima says, and when Tadashi looks at him he sees that Tsukishima is smiling, impossibly soft, eyes overflowing with affection, and Tadashi forgets himself.

“I love you,” he breathes, helpless to stop himself. All he can do is stare into golden eyes. He feels completely calm. He has no regrets.

Tsukishima stops in his tracks, smile falling from his face. He takes a step closer to Tadashi, their eyes still locked, amber and bronze, unable to look away.

“Really?” Tsukishima whispers, barely audible even in the crushing quiet of the hallway.

“Really,” Tadashi says resolutely. “I wanted to tell you somewhere special, like make it really romantic, but I just. I do. I love you.”

A weak laugh escapes Tsukishima before his lips are on Tadashi’s, hands cupping his jaw tenderly but with purpose. Tadashi can feel him smiling into the kiss but neither of them break it. They just smile and kiss and laugh and kiss, both breathless and euphoric. Finally, Tsukishima pulls away an inch, just enough to speak.

“I love you,” he murmurs, “Tadashi.”

And then they’re kissing again, on the lips, on the chin, the nose, the cheeks, the eyelids – anywhere they can reach.

“You know what?” they hear from their side, and they freeze, heads whipping around to see Hinata standing awkwardly in the hallway. “I think I’ll stay at Kageyama’s tonight.” Then he backs into his room, clumsy and loud, and he doesn’t take his eyes off them until he closes the door.

Tadashi looks up to see that Tsukishima is scowling at the space where Hinata had just stood. Laughing, he pecks the corner of Tsukishima’s mouth.

“So grumpy,” Tadashi teases, “I love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this we reach the end of our little story! I really really hope you enjoyed it!!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads this and gives kudos, and special thanks to those of you who take the time to comment. Your kind words make my heart soar and I cannot feasibly express my gratitude!!
> 
> The biggest thank you to Dev, who has beta'd this fic and has just been a joy, now and always. I couldn't have done it without you!!!
> 
> Come say hi on twitter @burnthisoka
> 
> Lots of love!! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multichap fic and my first Haikyuu fic, so comments and concrit are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed and want to stick around!


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